Lithium Flood
by Carmelroads
Summary: A collection of Erotic Shorts focused on the Lithium crew.
1. The 93rd Caller

**Lithium Flood**

 **Alternate-Alternate Universe One-Shot**

* * *

 ** _A/N: Lemony One-Shot. Foursome. Ana x CT x Ryder x Jose. Double Penetration. This a Lithium AU one-shot. IT IS NOT A PART OF THE LITHIUM SPRINGS CANON. Just something fun that was stuck in my brain. Blame Diamond Child and her Triangle for the story and blame KC for the title. Not beta'd. Not safe for work._**

* * *

" **Power 93, you** are the ninety-third caller, who's this?"

"I am? Really?" Ana squealed into the receiver. She jumped up and down unable to contain her excitement. She'd been calling into the station every two hours for the past week unsuccessfully now finally, on the last day of the contest, she'd gotten through.

"You sure are," Big Mike, from _Big Mike's Morning Mix_ , chuckled. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Ana!"

"Well, Ana, all you have to do is give me the phrase that pays and you'll be the grand prize winner."

"Power 93, Seattle's number one hit music station!" She yelled, the words spilling from her mouth so quickly she'd almost gotten the order wrong, _almost_.

"Congratulations Ana!" Big Mike screamed into the phone as air horns blared in the background. "You just won two backstage passes and a one-on-one meet and greet with Seattle's very own Lithium Springs. Hang on the line and we'll get your information."

* * *

 _ **One Week Later…**_

"Oh my gosh Kate I can't believe you're not coming with me," Ana whined, jutting out her bottom lip. "I'm so freaking nervous. I can't believe I'm actually going to meet them." She was rambling. The mammoth sized butterflies in her stomach wouldn't let her shut up.

She'd won backstage passes to see her all-time favorite band preform the final leg of their _Sex God_ tour, and Kate, her best friend and roommate, was on deadline. How was it fair that this huge, gigantic, once in a lifetime thing was happening and she didn't have anyone to share it with.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I've got to get this story done or my editor is going to serve my ass up on a silver platter," the blonde shot her friend and apologetic look as her fingers hit the keys of her laptop.

"I understand," Ana sighed, "but it still sucks."

"Mm-hmm," Kate grunted, her eyes glued to the screen.

"Kate," Ana groaned, "will you put that down and help me get ready!"

"I'm on deadline."

"At least tell me how I look?"

"Like a crazy stalker fan."

"What's wrong with this?" Ana frowned looking over at her reflection in the mirror. She opted for a pink Lithium Springs baby tee, black Lithium sweat pants, and black Lithium dad hat.

"Babe, I know they are your favorite band, but you look like you want to wear their skin."

"I. Don't. Not," Ana gritted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You. Do. Too. At best you look like a fifteen-year-old girl, at worse, a serial killer, but neither option is a very good one," Kate said, turning her head back to her laptop.

"Well, what would you wear?" Ana huffed, falling back on the bed.

"Something hot," Kate snorted.

"I don't want to look like a groupie."

"But… you are."

"Am not," Ana squeaked, slapping her friend on the arm. She wasn't a groupie. She was a fan. A diehard fan. So what if she masturbated to their poster once, big deal. Ok, maybe twice.

"You totally have a crush on the drummer."

"Everyone has a crush on the drummer," Ana replied rolling her eyes.

"But you're not everyone," Kate said, setting her laptop aside. "You're young and hot and rich. If you want the stupid drummer go and get him." Kate stood and walked to Ana's closet, a look of determination etched on her face.

Ana knew that look and she didn't like it. She was sure that whatever Kate picked would be skin tight and uncomfortable. Sighing, she resigned herself to her fate. She pulled the Lithium hat off her head and shook out her long brown hair as she listened to her friend ransacking her closet.

"Why do all your clothes suck?" Kate yelled.

"They do not," Ana screamed back, pursing her lips. She and Kate had two totally different senses of style. Kate was more, sultry vixen while Ana was a classic beauty.

"They do." Kate reemerged from the closet holding a white blouse and a navy capped sleeve dress, "this looks like something my mom would wear."

"That's Diane Von Furstenberg."

"You don't hear anything wrong with that sentence, do you?" Kate snarked.

"What's wrong with Diane Von Furstenberg?"

"Anastasia Rose Steele, you are twenty-five years old!"

"And?"

"And you haven't gotten laid since you broke up with douche bag Trey," Kate said, brushing past her friend, "a year ago," she added before stomping into her room.

Ana stuck her tongue out at the fiery blonde's back. Maybe she hadn't gotten laid in a year, but that didn't mean she hadn't gotten off.

Her blue eyes traveled to the white nightstand sitting just to the left of her four-post bed, the pleasure chest, as she'd so affectionately named it. Heat rushed to her face as images of her the laying on the bed with her little purple butterfly vibrator strapped to her clit flashed in her head. Kate probably wouldn't think she was such an angel if she saw the butt-plug hiding in the top drawer.

"Here," Kate said tossing a red ball of fabric at Ana's head. She held it up to get a better look at the thing. She was holding the skimpiest dress she'd ever laid her eyes on.

"Where's the rest?" Ana inquired, arching her brow.

"That's it."

"I'm not wearing that," she stated flatly, tossing it to the side.

"I thought you might say that, so I also brought you these." In Kate's hands were a pair of average looking black denim cut-offs.

"I have shorts?" It was a question not a statement. How were shorts any better than her Lithium sweat pants? How were these shorts any better than the ones in her closet.

"Not just any shorts, Ana, these are my lucky shorts, my guaranteed to get you laid, make your ass look spectacular, shorts." Kate stated proudly. "Plus, you can still wear your silly little band tee. It's effortless, edgy and hot as hell."

"Fine," Ana huffed. It was better than the fucking dress.

* * *

 _ **45 Minutes Later…**_

Stepping out of the Uber, Ana tugged at the hem of her shorts. Since she'd left the apartment one thought played on loop in her mind, _She was going to kill Katherine Marie Kavanagh._

The only reason she'd agreed to wear them in the first place was because they appeared longer than they actually were. What she didn't know, and what her friend failed to mention, were the two large tears located just under the back pockets. Yes, the shorts hung lower on her leg than usual, but they also exposed the bottom of her butt cheeks. Hell, they exposed the middle of them too. With each step she felt the shorts riding further and further up her ass.

"ID?" the young radio intern asked as she approached the Power 93 table. Ana handed over her driver's license, and butterflies once again fluttered in her stomach. Her anger over the shorts seemed to float away as the girl handed her back her ID and VIP lanyards.

"Thanks," she grinned, before half walking, half running back behind the stage.

Ana followed the large white signs that read _**POWER 93 CONTEST WINNERS**_ , through the maze of the Civic Arena to a small green room. In all there were twenty Lithium fans varying in age and gender, all waiting to meet their icons.

She took a seat in the back row as a million questions swirled in her mind.

 _What was their favorite color?_ No, she wasn't twelve.

 _What was their favorite song to perform?_ No, that was trite, plus she read somewhere that CT loves performing _Soar_ and Ryder prefers _Sex God_ , while Jose just gets a thrill from being on stage.

 _What qualities do you look for in a woman?_ No, she looked like a groupie, she didn't need to act like one too.

"Nervous?" A brunette woman sitting next to her asked.

"Is it that obvious," Ana smiled.

"Well, the shaky leg kind of gave you away," she said.

Ana slammed her hand down hard on her right thigh effectively halting the nervous twitch, "they're my favorite band. I've been kind of obsessed with them since my boyfriend and I broke up. They helped me get through some pretty dark times."

"I get it," the woman nodded, "their music speaks to my soul. It's like they just get me."

Ana grinned like a lunatic. She couldn't have said it better herself. "I think that's them," she squealed as she noticed the door to the green room opening out of the corner of her eye.

A tall blonde man slipped through, "The band will be in soon," the man said. "I'm Elliot their manger. I just wanted to go over a few things first."

They sat and listened attentively as Elliot went over the rules for the Q&A. It was pretty basic, one question per person, keep it PG, and most importantly have fun. He then went on to explain that there would be time after for pictures and autographs before the lucky grand prize winner got their one on one. "So, which one of you is Anastasia?" he asked, looking up from his clipboard.

"That's me," Ana raised her hand shyly. Her teeth found her bottom lip, as twenty pairs of eyes flew to her.

Elliot stared at her, his eyebrows shot up into his hairline, "you're Anastasia?"

"Yes. Well, Ana but yeah, that's me."

"Of course," he shook his head in disbelief. She wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but she didn't care, it was Lithium fucking Springs!

* * *

 _ **One hour later...**_

Ana bounced anxiously from foot to foot. Her nerves were in hyper drive as she waited patiently for the last of the nineteen contest winners to take a picture with the guys.

The question and answer went by in such a blur she couldn't remember a single thing that was said. This entire day was so surreal. The band that meant so much to her, the music that brought her through the darkness, the men that she'd masturbated to on a nightly basis, were standing right in front of her. They were five feet away and she had no clue what to say.

Ana inhaled and exhaled deeply as the manger walked over to where she was standing, "ready to meet the guys?" he asked, smiling.

She nodded her head up and down, frantically, "I think I'm going to throw up, but yes, I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

Elliot chuckled, "you'll be fine, trust me, they're going to fucking love you."

Ana followed closely behind Elliot as the guy's bid farewell to the last winner. This was it, the moment she'd dreamed about. She was finally going to meet Lithium Spring.

CT and Ryder sat on top of the table, while Jose was in a chair behind it. "Guys, Ana. Ana, meet Lithium Springs," Elliot introduced. "Jose, Ryder and my little brother, CT."

Ana froze. Her heart was beating frantically, as she sucked in her bottom lip. She did her best not to panic. _Don't blow, Steele_ , she told herself. "Hey," she waved, smiling brightly. She was going for cool and unaffected, she was going for Kate.

"She's the one who won the contest?" Jose blurted out in surprise. He looked to his bandmates, who were both staring at Ana with the same shocked expression on their faces.

"Yeah," Elliot nodded, "I know."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?" Ana asked, suddenly feeling insecure. Maybe Kate was wrong about the shorts. She clasped her hands behind her back, in an effort to cover the exposed skin.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, it's just… you're fucking hot. Like _insanely, ridiculously, good looking_ ," Jose emphasized. "Normally, it's teenagers who win these things, or creepy old dudes, never anyone who looks like you."

"Oh," Ana's lips puckered into a little "o" shape as she gaped at the guitarist. She wasn't sure how to respond, didn't know what to think. She was flattered. She was turned on and she was a little bit nervous.

"What he means is," CT, the drummer and Ana's favorite, interjected, "it's nice to meet you, Ana." He offered her his hand, his eyes roaming the length of her body. His gaze was mesmerizing. All deep and gray and mysterious.

"Nice to meet you too," she said, taking his hand. Electricity coursed through her veins as he pulled her closer, so close that she was straddling his leg.

"What's up?" Ryder asked, the question in his hazel eyes clear, _are you down to fuck_?

"You tell me," she shrugged. She hardly recognized her own voice, it was low, and sultry, throaty. Ana wasn't sure what was happening or rather, what was about to happen, but she certainly wasn't going to stop it.

"I think we're good, bro." CT spoke, finally tearing his gaze from Ana's body. He looked over at his brother, dismissing him, apparently, they no longer required a chaperone.

"Guys," Elliot warned.

"We're good," Jose grinned, throwing his arm around the blonde man, before ushering him to the door.

"Are you ok, Ana?" Elliot asked.

Ana looked down at CT, she wasn't sure when his hand landed on the back of her leg, but warmth she felt as he slid it up under the frayed edge of her shorts was the only answer she needed, "I'm fantastic," she breathed.

"Please use a fucking condom," Elliot grumbled before exiting the room.

"Sure thing, dad," Jose joked, slamming and locking the door behind him.

"So, Ana," CT mused, groping her firm tight ass, his gray eyes locked to her blue, "what's your favorite Lithium song?"

His words sent a chill down her spine. Her skin felt alive as he stroked her through the fabric of her shorts. There was an edge to his tone, lust mixed with urgency, and a hint of curiosity. He was intrigued by the blue-eyed beauty writhing under his touch.

"Umm… _Soar_ ," she answered. She liked Soar, but she knew it was his favorite, and well, she wanted to be his favorite too.

"Mine too," he stood, whispering into her neck. His mouth was on her almost instantly, all warm and wet at the base of her throat. He turned her around so that her ass was directly on his growing erection.

She vaguely registered Ryder dropping to his knees in front of her unbuttoning the button of her shorts, and she wasn't sure where Jose came from, but felt him. She felt his hands exploring her body.

Ryder hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her bottoms and yanked him down her legs. No sooner than they were around her ankles, she felt Jose's hand slip inside her panties, "God, she's so fucking wet," he groaned.

She should have been embarrassed, or felt shy but she wasn't and she didn't. She was soaked, it was the wettest she'd ever been in her entire life.

"Let's see if she tastes as good as she smells," Ryder suggested, pulling down her panties.

Jose's hand retreated up her body and up her shirt. He yanked down on her bra, exposing her breast. T

hey had her surrounded, Jose on her right, CT behind her on her left, and Ryder on his knee in front of her.

CT tugged on her ponytail so hard her head snapped back so roughly that she gasped in surprise. It was then that his mouth found hers and his tongue slipped between her lips. The kiss was a deep and possessive, his tongue battling hers for dominance. Licking and sucking and biting both her top and bottom lips

"Mmm," she moaned in his mouth as she felt the cool metal of Ryder's tongue ring lapping at her center. She'd never been with a man who had a tongue piercing, and after this, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to go back.

Jose grabbed her chin, yanking her mouth from the drummers, and brought it his. His kiss was, slow, sweet, much different than that of his bandmate. He took his time, tasting and teasing, he peppered her lips with small chaste kisses before pushing her face back to CT's.

He kissed her, deeper, claiming more, before sending her back to Jose. They alternated, back and forth while Ryder kissed her other lips. They were relentless. The man in front of her licked and sucked and licked, dragging his piercing across every inch of her sensitive flesh.

With one last flick of his tongue, the small metal ball grazed her clit, sending her into convulsions. Her knees buckled and the two sets of strong hands wrapped around her body to keep her upright.

Ryder stood, trailing kisses up her stomach as he went. Once he was on his feet, he pressed a small kiss on her collarbone, before pulling his shirt over his head. CT kissed her one last time, his gray eyes searching her blue for any sign of regret, "you still with us, baby?" he asked. The spark still there and possibly stronger than before.

"Yes," she moaned, biting on his bottom lip. _She definitely had a thing for the drummer._

"Good, then show us what that pouty little mouth of yours can do."

Ana dropped down to her knees, excitement coursed through her body as she discarded the rest of her clothes.

CT was the first of the guys to undress. His body looked even better up close than it did on the poster hanging on her bedroom wall. She eyed him greedily, taking in his sculpted chest, rock hard abs and brightly colored tattoos. He was perfection, sex on two legs and his dick, _holy shit!_ He had the biggest, most perfect penis she'd ever seen. It made her mouth water.

He approached slowly, looking down at her, his gray eyes filled with lust. He fisted his veiny cock with his right hand, using it to guide the tip of his dick over her lips. She tried unsuccessfully to catch it in her mouth, but he pulled back before she could taste him. He was teasing her, building anticipation, but she couldn't help the frustration she felt. She wanted his dick in her mouth.

"Are you pouting?" He asked half amused, half aroused. "She's pouting," he told Jose as he came up beside him, naked and standing at attention.

She licked her lips, Jose dick, while not as big as the drummers, was still pretty fucking impressive. She reached over, wrapping her delicate fingers around his shaft, and slowly began to rub, up and down.

Ryder came up on the other side of her, she smiled, his dick was pierced too. She'd never seen one in real life, she never felt one, and she couldn't wait. With her other hand she grabbed the lead singer, before turning her attention back to the drummer. "Are you going to give me what I want?"

He ran his tip over her mouth again, smearing the tiny bit of pre-cum over her lips. Her mouth popped open and her tongue darted out lapping up his seed, eager for a taste. He spanked her mouth with his cock, once, twice, three times before slipping it inside. She peeked up at him, watching, waiting.

CT smirked, pleased that his teasing had affected her so, but little did he know she had some tricks of her own. Relaxing her jaw, she sucked him into her mouth so deep that the tip of his erection hit the back of her throat.

CT gasped, the smirk on his face falling quickly as he watched with lust filled eyes as she deep throated him.

She pulled back, slobber dripping down her chin, she may have stuck tongue out at him, payback for his early teasing, but she didn't have a chance to gage his reaction before Ryder guided her head to him.

Ana wrapped her hand around CT's cock as she sucked and licked Ryder's. He moaned, fisting her hair, a pained expression marring his flawless face. His breathing ragged as he fucked her mouth.

Jose was up next, she flattened her tongue against the underside of his shaft, exploring his dick. He grinned down at her, his big brown eyes forever playful. She'd always been skilled a blow jobs, they were fun for her, and having so many beautiful dicks to choose, well, it was nothing short of heaven. She was so turned on her arousal dripped down her thighs.

They stayed like that for a while, her alternating between the three men, sucking and spitting and gagging on their dicks. She was determined, never spending too much time in one place.

She didn't think it could get any better, that was until she felt two fingers slip into her core, "she's tight," CT groaned. "How is it possible that your pussy is this tight?"

"It's been awhile," she confessed, before returning her attention back to Jose. She hadn't been with a man in a year, sure she played with herself, but her fingers and little butterfly toy was nothing compared to the real thing.

Suddenly she'd longed to be stretched out over one of their dicks. She longed to feel the weight of a man on top of her.

"I have to get inside of her," CT grunted, his voice thick with need. He grabbed arms, pulling her up to her feet, and throwing her over his shoulder. He walked her over to the couch in the back of the green room and dropped her down.

Falling to his knees he yanked her ass to the edge of the sofa before aligning his cock at her entrance. Jose and Ryder flanked either side of her head, she grabbed one with her hand and took the other in her mouth while the drummer drove into her core relentlessly.

She did her best to keep up with the blow jobs, but the tightening in her belly became more than she could handle. She lost focus as another orgasm tore through her body.

That didn't stop them though. They didn't care that she was writhing and shaking uncontrollably. CT pulled out, his cock was quickly replaced by Ryder's long, pierced dick. The bead of his piercing grazed her g-spot and another mini orgasm tore through her body as Jose thrusted in and out of her mouth.

She was lost in sensation. It was all too much but somehow it wasn't enough.

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, being fucked by all three members of Lithium Springs, and she couldn't let the moment pass without feeling all of them inside of her at the same time.

"What about my ass," she panted, just as soon as Jose slipped out of her mouth.

The three men stilled, looking from one to the other, silently debating who would be the lucky bastard to fill her tight rosebud. "Mine," the drummer growled. And the other men nodded their agreement.

"I want a turn with her pussy, Jose demanded.

Ryder sighed, as his fingers found her clit and he rubbed, slowly pumping in and out of her again and again. He tilted his hips so that his piercing hit all the right spots. "Just let me make her come one more time," he agreed reluctantly, "she feels so damn good when she's clenched around my dick."

"She really does dude," CT agreed, biting on her nipple. Jose head bent down and he brought his mouth to her other breast, licking and biting the erect bud.

"Yessssss," she hissed as the world was slipped away as the three sexiest men alive pulled and licked and tease another orgasm out of her.

"She's a squirted," Ryder said, slapping her clit with his dick. Her body shook as her juices gushed out from her core, dripping down the crack of her ass.

"That's it dude, it's my turn."

"Fine," Ryder huffed, "A guy could really get used to being inside of you."

CT eyed his friend, some unspoken conversation between them, "don't bother," the drummer growled, pressing a kiss on her temple.

Ana was too lost in her orgasm, too eager to have CT filling her ass to pay attention to what they were saying. In fact, she'd barely registered them shifting her body on top of Jose's. He was lying flat on the couch, his penis begging to be sheathed by her, and well, she'd longed for relief to the emptiness.

"FUuuuckk," he moaned as she lowered herself down on his shaft. She rolled her hips, riding him like he was a prized stallion. Ryder stood above them, guiding her face to his crotch, she sucked him in as Jose thrusted into her wildly.

CT climbed up on the couch behind her, his hand griping her waist as he guided his glistening cock to her rear entrance.

Her entire body stilled, as she adjusted to the mounting pressure caused by the monster pushing its way into her ass. A strangled cry ripped from her throat as he filled her completely. The men stilled, giving her a minute to adjust to the intrusion.

"Fuck me," she yelled.

That was all the encouragement they needed, Jose and CT pumped into her in sync as Ryder used her mouth. Sweat dripped down her brow, slobber down her lips and come seeped out of her pussy as they filled every orifice on her body.

They slammed into her, pushing her higher and higher and higher, while desperately seeking their own release. The noises coming from their mouths were raw and primal growls that sounded as if they belonged to lion's attacking their prey. She was the gazelle, and they were attempting to split her in two.

Ryder came first. Sucked him to the back of her mouth as he shot hot semen down her throat.

Next was Jose, "shit, dude, let me up," he grunted. CT yanked Ana back of his bandmate, never breaking their connection. Jose scrambled to his feet just before CT pushed her back on all fours; the drummer continuing his punishing pace.

She yelled out, but her screams were muffled by the cock pushing its way into her mouth. She could taste herself on Jose as he pumped into her twice before releasing so much come in her mouth she nearly choked.

"Come on baby," CT growled. He brought his hand to her clit and began rubbing small circles on her swollen bud. She wasn't sure if her body could withstand another orgasm but he wasn't giving up. He was going to kill her; death by orgasm, but there was no other way she'd want to go.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," she yelled, biting down on the arm of the couch. She saw the stars and the moon and the planets as she ascended to the heavens. She was so lost in pleasure she thought she'd ever come down.

"Fuck, Ana," CT groaned as he slammed into her one final time, spilling his seed deep within her. They collapsed in a heap on the sofa, both struggling to breath.

* * *

 _ **Three hours later…**_

Ana felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her body. "Is it time for the show?," she muttered sleepily into his neck. She didn't bother opening her eyes, she knew him by scent. The drummer, her favorite.

"Baby, the show is over, you slept through it."

"What?" She whined, "I missed the entire thing?" She was disappointed. This was the last leg of the tour. The end of the road. Who knew how long it would be before they toured again, and she'd slept through it.

"Yes," he chuckled.

"I should probably get going," her voice was sad as struggled to stand but his grip on her tightened.

"Settle down, Ana, I got you."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the tour bus."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

She took a quick assessment of her body, she was sore but in the most delicious way possible. "You guys are trying to kill me," she purred snuggling into his neck.

"Just you and me this time baby," he whispered into her hair.

"Really?"

"Is that a problem for you?"

"No, not at all…Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yes."

"You're my favorite."

"And you're mine, only mine, from now on, deal?"

"Deal."

 _ **The End..**_

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thank you for reading.**_


	2. Jealous

**Jealous**

* * *

 **The universe, simply** put, is a vast network of galaxies and planets and moons and stars. Stars that vary in size and in brightness and in distance and in mystery. On clear nights like tonight, a warm September evening, the stars in the sky were most visible from the balcony of their penthouse.

Ana watched the stars as they danced in the moonlight. They twinkled, promising wishes to optimistic believers and dreamers. To many they were a sign of hope, but to her, from her castle in the sky, they signified the passage of time. Another day gone, another lonely night.

The timer on the stove beeped, breaking the spell the night sky cast upon her. The macaroni and cheese smelled divine; too bad it would go to waste.

She laughed bitterly as she drained her glass. The honey colored liquid didn't even burn going down anymore. In truth, she felt nothing but rage.

Rage for the hours she spent in the kitchen preparing all his favorite foods. Rage for the red lace La Perla bra and panties set that she wore while she cooked for him. Red; the same color of the dress she had on when they first met. Red; the hue that currently color her world.

Anastasia took one last look up at the night sky and whispered, "the second star on the right and straight on til morning." Only this time, Christian, her own person Peter Pan, wouldn't be there to guide her. Now, Christian was the star. He was the thing that the dreamers and believers looked to for guidance and for hope.

His music, the band, the whole Lithium universe was vast and important and bigger than any of them could have ever imagined. They had a platinum album and the number record in the country. A song he'd written about her, their love story.

The band had been on tour for six months. Six long months and it was finally over. He was supposed to be home. They were supposed to be making love under the stars. He promised to take her on the balcony the moment he crossed the threshold of the apartment they shared. It's the reason she put on the ridiculous lingerie in the first place.

 _Beep!_

She turned to go back inside. The timer's incessant wailing taunted her. The noise grated on what was left of her patience and shredded the last bit of self-confidence she possessed.

 _Beep! He's stood you up._

 _Beep! You look like a fool._

 _Beep! You'll always come second._

 _Beep! He doesn't love you anymore._

 _Beep!_

 _Beep!_

"SHUT UP!" Ana yelled, smashing the off button. She yanked the pot holders from the hook above the stove and pulled open the oven door, throwing the casserole dish into the trash. Next went the filets, then the lobster, and then asparagus.

She spent her day going from the butcher, to the fish monger, and then finally to the farmers' market, gathering the freshest ingredients she could find. She even stopped and got a bottle Macallan Rare Cask, the best whiskey she could find, to celebrate his return.

Never mind she drunk half of it while she waited. Never mind she was planning to finish it while she ate the chocolate cake she had his mother show her how to make because it was his favorite. Never mind it was her fucking birthday.

She dedicated her day to welcoming him back home and he couldn't even bother to call. No, he sent text message. Some half-assed apology about some last-minute meeting with the label.

Well fuck that. She deserved better than that. She spent the last six months flying across the country at his beck and call. She'd played her part, never once complaining, never once nagging and he couldn't even make it home in time for her fucking birthday.

"Happy birthday to me," she grunted, wrapping her hands around the whiskey bottle. She was pathetic, celebrating her twenty-seventh year on this planet half drunk, semi-nude, and totally alone.

Ana made her way through their top floor penthouse, the one he bought for them to live in together. She vowed not to let his absence ruin what was left of her special day.

Her cell phone was lying on the bed, she left it there to prevent herself from sending her rock star boyfriend a string of profane text messages. Messages like, _since you couldn't bother to call me on my birthday, don't bother coming home._ And _I hate you, you inconsiderate piece of shit._

Picking the phone up, she noticed a new text from Christian:

* * *

 **Peter Pan:**

 **I'm so sorry baby. I didn't think this would take this long. I swear I'll make it up to you when I get home.**

* * *

She sneered at the screen. How many times had she heard that one before. Ana tossed the phone back on the bed and headed to the walk-in, she needed to get dressed because she was going out.

Their clothes were aligned neatly, his on the left and hers on the right. She stopped, glancing over her shoulder at the racks of skinny jeans and distressed tees. Seeing his things there, untouched for so long, made something in her snap. "Fucking hipster asshole," she mumbled , striding over to his side of the closet.

She pulled a Lithium Springs hoodie down from the hanger and tossed it onto the floor. It felt good, so good that she grabbed another, this time his prized Nirvana Tour shirt he'd won in an Ebay bidding war. She ripped down piece after piece of his clothing until she was satisfied with her pile then she went and got a suitcase and stuffed it all inside.

Fuck him. She was done being sad and lonely. She wheeled the suitcase back into the bedroom and left it by the door. Then she retrieved her phone and sent a message to her two best friends, the only other people in the world who could understand what she was going through.

* * *

 **Ana:**

 **I don't want to spend my birthday alone. Let's go out!**

* * *

 **Kate:**

 **I'm in!**

* * *

 **Lizzie:**

 **Heck yes!**

* * *

She smiled, her first genuine smile of the day and headed back into the closet in search of the tiniest dress she could find.

* * *

 **The downtown night** club was packed. Energy pulsated through the near capacity crowd like a healing balm, temporarily relieving the pain and embarrassment of being forgotten on her birthday.

"It's a zoo in here," Kate, her blonde best friend, ex-roommate yelled over the music. Kate was lucky, Ryder, the bands lead singer, would never miss her birthday.

"I know. It's perfect," Ana said with a grin because it was perfect. It was too loud to think and too crowded to be self-conscious, just what the doctor ordered.

"Ok birthday girl," Lizzie, Christian's cousin and girlfriend of Lithium Springs drummer, Jose, shouted, "would you rather drink or dance?"

Anastasia took a quick assessment of body, Her lips tingled with numbness, a side effect of the whiskey she already drank. A combination of tear and alcohol induced fog blurred her vision, and warmth radiated from her skin. A warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the packed club. She was drunk and she'd been let down more times in the last six months that she could count on both hands. There was only one thing that would make her feel better, "let's dance!" she shouted.

Lizzie and Kate nodded their agreement and the three women linked hands and pushed their way onto the dance floor. Kate lead them past the hoard of sweaty bodies to an open spot down in front. Normally, Ana would protest being so close to the speakers but tonight she relished the vibration.

The music was loud and the base relentless as a song Ana didn't recognize blared through the dance floor. Their bodies rocked and their hips swayed from side to side as music infiltrated their bones.

Her tiny t-shirt dress rode high up her thighs. Of course, she knew it was too short when she put it on, but that why she chose it. It wasn't anything special, a simple white dress that stopped just below her butt, paired with the highest pair of fuck me heels she owned, gray thigh high boots that laced up the front.

She almost put on _the red dress,_ but it didn't look right with her lace bra and panties and she couldn't bring herself to take them off. Having them on fueled her rage, they were a constant reminder of her anger, and a secret fuck you to her boyfriend.

She was being spiteful, so spiteful that she had Kate take a picture of her before they left to send to Christian. The message that read, _don't bother waiting up_. After she hit send she tossed her phone on the coffee table and walked out the door.

Her chestnut hair clung to her damp skin. It long and wild, wavy, she looked like she'd been freshly fucked. She hadn't of course, but he didn't need to know that.

Her make-up was soft and neutral, her pink pouty lips parted ever so slightly as she threw her head back and screamed, her voice instantly swallowed up by the noisy club.

One song faded into another, and that one melted into the next as the women danced and laughed and celebrated life. She wasn't sure how long they were out on the dance floor but before long Lizzie draped her arms around her neck and pulled her close so she could speak," we're going to get a drink, you wanna come with?"

"No, I'll stay here. I wanna dance, but could you bring me back a beer?"

"Sure, thing birthday girl," Lizzie grinned before she and Kate disappeared into the crowd.

The song changed again, a medium tempo beat with a pounding drum line. Her fellow club goers erupted in cheers as the DJ spun a record from their current hometown heroes. Ana wrinkled her nose as Ryder's voice spilled though the speakers.

 _Sex god._

 _Sex god._

 _Sex god._

 _Wrap your legs around my waist_

 _Let me lose control_

 _Bury my head inside your warmth_

 _Fuck you 'til you explode_

 _When were done, you'll swear I touched your soul_

 _Sex god_

 _Sex god_

 _Sex god_

 _Wrap your legs around my waist_

 _Let me lose control_

 _Bury my head inside your warmth_

 _Fuck you 'til you explode_

 _When were done, you'll swear I touched your soul_

 _Sex god._

 _Sex god._

 _Sex god._

To say she was annoyed would have been an understatement. The very person she was trying to forget had followed her here, to this club, on her birthday. It's like he was taunting her. Absent physically, but damn near omniscient in spirit.

But she wasn't going to let the ghost of her boyfriend sour the mood. She decided to join her friends at the bar, something stronger than beer would be needed to drive the image of those gray eyes out of her mind.

The crowd on the dance floor swelled to a unbelievable number, The Lithium affect, there were so many people thrashing about Ana feared she'd get swallowed up into a sea of drunken madness. Pushing forward she muttered apologies as she squeezed between a group of stumbling girls. The energy was electric, part of her was proud of her lost boys and their success, but a bigger part of her was irritated as hell.

She made it out of the pit and nearly halfway to the bar when someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. She huffed and rolled her eyes, preparing to give whoever it was a piece of her mind. He picked the wrong girl, on the wrong night. The pent up rage she felt for Christian threatened to bubble up and spill all over the unsuspecting idiot who thought it was ok to touch her.

Turning, she opened her mouth to speak only no words came. The green eyes that met her blue rendered her temporarily speechless, "uh.. umm...I...can I have my hand back?" she stuttered. Her voice was a lot less forceful that she intended.

"Sorry," green eyes whispered, his mouth inches from her ear. "You're just so beautiful and I would never forgive myself if I let you walk pass me without telling you so."

"Uh, thanks," she muttered as her focus shifted down from his clear greens eyes, over his strong angular jaw, then on to his chest, a chest that even hidden under a blue oxford shirt she could tell he was muscular.

"Dance with me?" Green eyes asked. It was welcome change from her domineering boyfriend. Christian never asked, he only commanded. He took what he wanted, when he wanted and God help her but she wished it were him here with her instead.

"I shouldn't. Plus, this song," she said making a face. She wanted to add, more specifically, the stupid, selfish and inconsiderate drummer, but she refrained.

"You don't like Lithium Springs?" He questioned, his voice laced with genuine surprise.

"Not at the moment, no." She should have told him about Christian. The sober and rational angel on her right shoulder begged her to tell him that he didn't have a snowballs chance in hell, but the jaded and more than slightly drunk angel on her left screamed at her to flirt back.

"That's a first, I thought everyone in Seattle worshiped them."

She shrugged. Under normal circumstances she'd sing their praises, but not tonight.

"Well, dance with me anyway," he grinned, it was a wholesome, boy next door smile, that had the evil bitch on her left shoulder pushing her into his arms.

Ana looked at him as her subconscious debated, he was handsome and it was her birthday. She deserved one dance, didn't she? It wasn't like she was going to leave with him. "Fine, one dance," she finally agreed.

His face lit up as he wrapped her in his arms. His pace was slower than the music but she didn't mind. He was strong and warm. "So what's your name?"

She considered lying. She could be anyone she wanted, it wouldn't have mattered, but in the end, she went the truth. "Ana."

"Nice to meet you Ana, I'm Trey," he introduced as _Sex God_ faded into the next song, another Lithium one of course.

"Again," she groaned, throwing her hands up.

"Ok I'll bite," Trey chuckled, pulling her back to his front, "why don't you like them?"

"It isn't that I don't like them, it's just... well, I'm sort of dating the drummer and today's my birthday and he kinda blew me off."

"I see," he said thoughtfully.

"I came here to get away from things that remind me of him and, it's like he's hell bent on ruining my night," she explained, pointing towards the speaker.

"Well I can't let that happen, now can I?"

Trey was sweet, the kind of guy she use to think she'd end up with. His eyes were kind, his touch soft, but the spark just wasn't there. "That's very kind of you but I should probably just go. thank you for the dance."

"Wait, at least let me buy you a birthday drink."

She looked at him, really looked at him, he seemed harmless enough, "You're not going to drug me are you?" A girl could never be too careful.

The kind, green eyed man grinned. "I hadn't planned on it, but you can come with me to the bar if it will make you feel better," he said unto her ear. His hand was on the small of her back, it was like he couldn't stop touching her.

She nodded. She was playing with fire and she wasn't even sure why. Sure, this man was handsome, nearly every woman in the vicinity was checking him out, but her wasn't hers. No one compared to Christian but he hurt her and it felt nice to have someone paying attention to her for once.

They made their way to the bar, Kate and Lizzie were nowhere to be found. She must have missed them. If only she didn't leave her phone back at the apartment she could have called, or texted, something to let them know she was ok.

"What's your poison?" He asked, pulling her into his side. His hand traveled down the side of her body stopping low on her thigh, his fingertip gazed her skin. The sensation was foreign, his touch didn't cause the same electricity as Christian's, but it was nice, safe.

"Whiskey," she replied. Her voice was breathy and flirty as she bit down on her bottom lip. Trey's eyes glazed over with lust and the sober angel screamed for her to get the heck out of there, fast.

"Whiskey it is." He smirked, turning to get the attention of the bartender.

Ana ran her fingers through her hair, lifting it off her neck. Sweat was dripping her back, the heat from the club was stiffing. Her head was spinning and suddenly she wasn't sure if shot was such a good idea.

"Maybe I'll just have water," she started to say, but before she could get Trey's attention, the familiar jolt of adrenaline coursed through her veins. A hand fisted into her hair, pulling her backwards. She knew it was him by the way her body reacted to his touch, but the purple Anastasia tattooed on his neck confirmed it. Christian was home, and judging by his face he was pissed.

A strong, tattooed covered arm wrapped around her throat and his lips came crashing down onto hers. He put on a show, licking his way into her mouth with sloppy and possessive kisses, practically fucking her mouth with his tongue. His grip on her hair tightened and his kiss intensified sending a rush of moisture flooding her panties.

"One shot of whiskey for the birth-" Trey began, but quickly stopped as soon as he saw the six foot two drummer with his arms possessively wrapped around Ana's petite frame. She could feel his eyes burning into them. She felt bad. He was nice to her and he didn't deserve this. Damn Christian and his damn devil dick. She hated the affect he had on her body. She was pissed at him but she also wanted nothing more than for him to rip her clothes off.

The drummer pulled away slightly, peppering tiny kisses all over her mouth and across her jaw before sinking his teeth into her earlobe. His eyes found Treys and in the most cocky and condescending voice she'd ever heard, he smirked, "I think she's good bro." Trey's face fell as Christian lace his fingers with Ana's and yanked from her spot at the bar. As they passed she heard her boyfriend sneer, "Have a good night douchbag."

Anastasia stumbled to keep up as he navigated them through the sea of partiers. He ducked his head down, doing his best to keep a low profile but people were starting to recognize him. Being the drummer had its perks, he wasn't as visible as their front man, Ryder, but his face, the one that looked like it was chiseled from granite, was hard to miss.

"I need to tell Kate and Lizzie I'm leaving," Ana said, pulling from his grasp.

"There're fine, Ry and J got 'em," he explained, "but, baby you need you to walk faster."

"If I go any faster my ass will be hanging out," she bit, tugging at the hem of her dress.

"No one told you to wear that shit," he growled, shouldering past the drunk couple making out near the rear exit.

"You're not even supposed to be here."

"Neither are you. You're supposed be home."

How dare he barge in here and piss all over her fun. He had all day to show up and he neglected her. There was no way in hell she was going to spend forever sitting at home waiting for him to give a damn. "I got sick of waiting for my alleged boyfriend."

"Alleged?" He questioned busting through the door. There was a black stretch limo parked outside, a man in a black suit stood beside it with the door open wide. Christian all but threw her into the waiting car then slid in next to her.

"Watch it asshole," she grit, sliding down the black leather seat as far away from him as she could get. There was bar to the right, fully stocked with all the ingredients she needed to calm the rage fueled lust that coursed through her body.

"Careful, Anastasia. I'm this close to losing my shit," he warned holding is index finger and thumb an inch apart.

"You?" she huffed with indignation, "you're not the one who had to spend their birthday alone. I flew to bum-fuck Egypt and blew you in the back of a tour bus and you couldn't bother to come the fuck home."

"What was I supposed to do? Blow off the meeting? It isn't just me babe, there's three of us and Jose and Ryder don't have trust funds to fall back on."

The car lurched forward as the driver pulled into traffic. Anastasia crossed her arms over her chest, watching as the city passed by, a blur of darkness and light. "It's fine. Trey took great care of me." She knew she sound like a spoiled brat, but he could have called.

Christian inhaled roughly, mashing the intercom button, "Taylor," he barked.

"Yes, Mr. Grey?"

"Can you roll up the partition please? I need a minute alone with my girl."

"Yes, sir."

Ana gulped as she watched the driver's head slowly disappear behind the tinted glass. Gray eyes burned a hole into her soul. His jaw ticked with barely concealed anger but she did her best to appear unbothered. Hell, she was unbothered, fuck him and his temper tantrum. He was getting a taste of his own medicine.

"Bring your little ass over here, now," he growled. His voice strained as he struggled to compose himself. He was a ticking time bomb, a live grenade.

"Fuck you."

"Is this what you want?" he sank to his knees, crawling towards her. "You want me to beg?" The stretch limo suddenly felt like a Mini Coop. The walls were closing on her. The air was thick with anger and hatred and lust. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, but she stood her ground. She didn't come this far to back down now.

"I wanted you to come home for dinner," she bit. The words bitter on her tongue. The day was supposed to be joyous, a celebration, but here in the dimly lit limo she felt jaded.

"I told you I was sorry. I didn't have a choice."

"You should have called."

"You should have waited for me." He countered, kissing her knees. He was infuriating, and completely unaware of how his absence made her feel. "You belong to me," he said forcing her legs apart. "this his mine," he whispered against the lace covering her sex. "That cornball wouldn't even know what to do with this."

"He was there for me, when you weren't," she breathed. How long had it since he'd kissed her there?

"Is that why you let him put his fucking hands on you?" His fingers ghosted up her legs, lifting one at a time and draping them over his shoulders. He bit the sensitive spots to the right and left of her core, teasing her, torturing her.

"We danced. He bought me a drink. That's it," She explained. Her head fell back against the seat. She was giving in to her punishment. Her rage was still there, the angry drunk angel stomped her foot in protest, but her desire for the man on his knees before her was too strong.

"That's it? That all it was?" His sensual interrogation almost complete.

"Yes," she was writhing, desperate for him to make contact.

"Did you want him to fuck you?" His fingers tugged at the lace barrier between his mouth and her wetness.

"No," she yelled out. Her hips buckled, she was desperate to feel his hands, his lips, his tongue against her velvety flesh. "I want you to fuck me. It's all I want. It's all I ever want."

"Whose pussy is this?" he murmured against her clit. His voice sent vibrations up her body. Pushing her panties aside, Christian lapped at her entrance. A low rumble of satisfaction ripped from his throat. He wasn't as in control as he wanted her to believe.

"It's yours," she moaned, tilting her hips up to meet his mouth.

"Who does your heart belong to?"

"You, forever."

"Don't ever fucking forget it." His voice was low, measured, "you're mine baby, mine." He growled, yanking her down to her knees. They were chest to chest, nose to nose, the heat between them could melt a glacier He wrapped his hands around her neck forcing her to look at him. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday. I should have called, but I'm not letting you off the hook for the shit you pulled tonight. I'm going to fuck you, hard, right here in the back of this limo. I'm going to take all my anger out on your body and you better take your's out on mine because once we leave this car it's back to CT and Ana. No more pouting. No more shit talking."

She nodded, tugging his bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth. She bit down hard and didn't let go until she tasted blood.

He chuckled softly, wiping his lip with the back of his hand before pushing her down onto the seat, "ass up baby," he commanded. She did as she was told, lifting her butt high in the air. Her dress rode up, exposing her _fuck you_ thong.

"Are these new?" he asked finger the lace.

"Yes," she sighed, the faint sound of his zipper lowering rendered her breathless. "A birthday present to myself."

"A shame," he tks'd , snatching the lace from her body, the fabric dug into her hips before finally giving way to the pressure.

"Hey! That hurt," she yelped, forcing her hips back into his groin.

"It was supposed to," he grunted, penetrating her without warning. The impact was so strong it sent her face flying into the cool leather of the seat in front of her. Each thrust more intense than the last as he filled her. She relished the sensation of being stretched by his cock. She'd yearned for it for so long and now he was here inside her body where he belonged.

"Yes, baby, just like that." She screamed forgetting about the man just beyond the glass. He didn't matter. Her anger, her rage, fueled her as Christian pounded into her from behind. Then without warning, he pulled out, withdrawing his length from her warmth.

Ana grunted, turning her body to see why he stopped. Just as their eyes met, he brought his hand down hard on her ass, spanking her. "This is your punishment," he roared, "you'll come when I say you can," he informed her, slapping her butt once more before pushing his dick back inside, driving her higher and higher as the limo sped forward into the night.

Once again, she felt the familiar pull in her core. She tried her best to control her physical reaction, knowing that if he sensed she was close he'd pull out again. But her mind couldn't control her traitorous body. Her legs began to tremble, sweat rolled down her back and again the bastard withdrew.

"I hate you so much right now."

"You're not my favorite person either." He bit, slapping her ass three more times in rapid succession.

 _Smack!_

 _Smack!_

 _Smack!_

"Christian," her voice was terse. Her patience wore thin. She needed to come, her orgasm had been a month in the making.

"You still haven't apologized," he growled, slamming back into her dripping wet pussy.

"I'm not sorry. It got your attention, didn't it?" She rolled her hips, meeting him, thrust for thrust.

"You could have just told me you were hurting. I would have understood." He yanked on her hair, her back arched, her body contorted for his pleasure.

"I've been telling you for the past three months."

The limo turned, causing them to lose their balance and they both went crashing onto the floor. They erupted into a fit of laughter at the absurdity of the situation. They were being childish, fucking their emotions out of one another instead of talking. "I'm sorry." Christian said once they composed themselves. His voice was sincere as he pulled her on top of him. "I'm still trying to figure this all out. Please don't give up on me."

"I won't," she promised cuddling up to the man who brought out the best and worst of her. "I just need to know I'm not in this alone."

"As long as I'm breathing, you'll never be alone, whether you like it or not," he smirked, stroking her hair. "Do you want your gift now or later?"

"Now please, I've been patient enough."

"You're going to have to get up," he grinned.

"Fine," she huffed, pulling herself onto the seat. She did her best to straighten out her dress and smooth her unruly mane. Life was funny, this day started out hopeful, then it turned to shit as anger and insecurity seeped into her pores. Now, at two am, riding in the back of a limo with her rock star boyfriend, she felt content. All was right in her world.

Ana watched as Christian pulled up his shorts. He pulled something from the pocket, her gift.

Her breath caught in her chest as he shuffled over to her on bended knee. "That's not what I think it," she gasped. It was only then that she noticed the red Cartier box he was holding.

"If you're thinking earrings, then you're wrong," he smirked, grabbing her left hand.

"Christian," she breathed.

"Anastasia Rose Steele-"

"Christian." She was freaking out. He wasn't about to do what she thought he was about to do, right? Every other possible scenario ran through her mind. If this was a trick it was cruel, but if it was real… "Christian," she repeated.

"Will you shut up and let me do this?" he chuckled.

She laughed nervously as tears streamed down her face, "Sorry, go ahead."

"Anastasia Rose Steele, you are my happiest thing. My light in the darkness, my angel, my best friend. You're the place between sleep and awake. No matter how far I may travel, no matter how long I may stay away, you are my home, you are the place where my dreams come true. Soar with me? Forever?"

"Forever," she nodded as he slipped the ring on her finger.

 _ **And they lived happily ever after.**_

* * *

 _ **Amy thank you for reading this a million times, at every stage. Thank YOU for reading!**_

 _ **Not Beta'd.**_


	3. Happy Ending

_**Lithium Flood**_

 _ **The Happy Ending**_

* * *

 **Ana inhaled deeply** pulling open the heavy metal and glass door to Esclava. Lavender and vanilla scented the air of the large modern salon, making her feel instantly at ease.

She had a love affair with lavender, one that began during her freshman year of college. It grew wild in the field behind her dorm. She'd sit with the window open crisp spring days while the scent wafted in, wrapping her in its warmth.

It comforted her when she broke up with asshole Stephan. It focused her as she spent countless hours reading manuscripts and fighting for respect from her bitch of a boss, Elena Lincoln. Her love for the scented herb even endured through her messy break up with douche bag Trey, her now ex-fiancé. It was soft and feminine and whimsical. It was home.

She smiled as she walked up to the sleek steel receptionist desk, her mother was right, this was exactly what she needed. A new look, a new perspective. "Hi, I'm Ana. I have a four o'clock appointment," she said extending her hand to the lady dressed in all black standing behind the desk. The woman's blonde hair was pulled back into a low bun and her red lips spread into a wide grin as she gave Ana her hand.

"Rachel," she greeted before dropping her eyes to the computer screen in front of her. "Ana. Ana. Ana." The receptionist chanted, scrolling through her appointment log.

"Sorry, Anastasia," she clarified, remembering that Carla, her mother and the person who made this appointment, hated her nickname. _'If I wanted to call you Ana, I would have named you Ana_ ,' she'd always say.

"Ah, Anastasia, here you are. Lucky girl, you're booked with Franco, he's a magician," Rachel beamed. "You'll be in good hands for sure."

Ana nodded eagerly, Rachel's enthusiasm was infectious.

Though this was her first time in the high-end boutique she'd heard all about Franco from her mother. Carla raved about Franco Rodriguez and his magic hands. She talked about the man so much that Ana and her father, Ray, had a running joke that Carla was going to run away with him.

"Right this way."

Ana followed Rachel through the noisy salon floor. They walked past rows of black leather chairs; some occupied and some left vacant. The sound of blow dryers whizzing, water flowing, and clients and stylist chatting animatedly about weekend plans and potential new hairstyles provided the perfect instrumental. It's was chaos in the most beautiful way.

"Franco sees his clients in the private room in back," Rachel tossed over her shoulder.

"Oh," Ana muttered distractedly. She barely caught what the woman said, she was preoccupied, too busy staring at the tattooed man sitting in one of the salon chairs, to listen. He was smiling, talking to a stylist whose chair sat vacant. He was dressed in all black _, not a client but an employee_? she supposed.

Ana's eyes roamed his body, she was openly gawking at him. It was rude and under any other circumstance her years of ingrained training would never allow her to do something so impolite, but she couldn't help herself. This man, all dark and mysterious, stood out like a sore thumb.

There was a smattering of light brown scruff on his chin, not a full beard but enough that would tickle her cheeks if he kissed her with those lips that looked impossibly soft for a man with such a rough exterior. Enough that would scratch the sensitive skin between her thighs if he tasted her there.

As if he could read her mind, his eyes drifted from the woman he was talking to, a slow devilish grin spread across his face as his gaze met hers.

She sucked in a sharp breath and quickly turned her head forward, doing her best to pretend like she wasn't just eye fucking him.

 _Holy shit I really need to get laid_.

Rachel stopped in front of a white door, "prepare to have your mind blown," she squealed, turning the knob.

"Anastasia, darling," Franco's voice was thick with a heavy Spanish accent. He bounced out of his chair and pulled her in for a hug, kissing both of her cheeks. "Carlita has told me so much about you I already feel like I know you."

"Same!" Ana smiled up at the man. He was tall, 6'3 at least, and skinny as a twig. His tan skin and jet black hair were immaculately groomed. He radiated warmth and happiness. He was a ray of sunshine in his beautiful black and metallic fortress. Ana now understood why her mother spoke so fondly of him.

"What are we doing today?" he inquired, ushering her into the chair.

She answered without hesitation, "cut it all off."

"All of it?" he asked lifting her mid-back length brown hair up off her shoulders.

"All of it," she repeated.

"What's his name, muñeca?" he asked dryly.

"Huh?"

"The guy that has you in here ready to go all Brittney circa 2007."

Ana sighed, rolling her eyes, "Trey."

"And what happened with Trey to make you want to cut off all your long, pretty hair?" Franco pressed, draping a black smock around her neck. Not only was he a skilled stylist, but he was also great at reading people.

"We were engaged, today was supposed to be our wedding day," she confessed. After months of dread and panic as she made plans to spend the rest of her life with Trey, she finally found the courage to call it off.

Franco's sincere brown eyes pinned hers in the mirror. "I'm sorry it didn't work out." He was kind, not because her spend a small fortune here, but because that was just the type of man was. It was probably why her mother loved him so much. Carla had finely tuned bullshit detector one that always went off around her ex.

"Don't be," she scoffed, "he was an asshole who tried to control every aspect of my life. He told me how to dress, what to eat, where to work, everything. One time I got my hair trimmed, just a few inches, mostly splits and damage, but he was so angry with me that stayed at his parents' house for three day!" Ana shuttered, hearing it out loud made her cringe. How could she have ever been in love with such domineering asshole.

"Sounds like you dodged a bullet."

"Yeah, but even though we didn't get married, I feel like I'm going through a divorce." They'd been together so long their lives were fully intertwined, but after weeks of unmingling their assets she was almost free. All that was left to do was pick up the rest of her stuff from their apartment later that day. She figured chopping all her hair off would be one final fuck you to the man she thought she was going to marry.

"I see. How about we try something a little less extreme and if you still want to cut your hair, we'll schedule you for an appoint next week, on me." He proposed, spinning her around in the chair. Turning on the sink attached to his station, he leaned the chair back and pulled a bottle of shampoo from his cart. _Lavender_.

"What's that your using?" she asked sitting up in the chair.

"It's a mix of castile soap, coconut oil and lavender, my own creation," he explained.

"Mmm, I love lavender." She inhaled deeply, relaxing back into the sink.

"Do you trust me?" he question, mischief twinkled in his eyes.

She bit down on her lip, grinning like a loon, "yes," she nodded.

"Carte blanche?" He asked, wagging his brows.

Free rein to do whatever the hell wanted? They'd only just met a few moments ago, and in that time, she'd shared her most personal demons. If she trusted him with that, then she could trust him with her hair, it'd grow back, eventually. "Do your worse."

* * *

 **Ana stared at** her reflection in the mirror, Franco really was a miracle worker. Her long brown hair, while still long ,was cut into layers and the tips were lightened and dyed ranging from blonde to lavender.

"¿DÌgame?" Franco asked as he stood back admiring his handy work.

"I love it," she beamed, clapping her hands excitedly. Trey was going to hate it and that made her love it even more. She felt lighter. She felt more feminine. She felt sexy. She felt free. "What else can I do?"

"Facial? Massage? Manicure?" Franco listed, lifting one finger for each service mentioned.

"All of the above." She was a new woman, her hair made her invincible, but if she was going to face the douche bag later she needed to fortify her armor.

Franco chuckled, a satisfied look stretched across his narrow face, "I think Lydia has a client now, but Connor should be finishing up soon. I'll get you set up in a massage room and I'll send him your way when he's done.

She nodded, following him out of the back room and down a small hallway, they stopped in front of a door marked _massage room B_. "Get comfortable muñeca," Franco instructed, shutting her in the room.

"Thanks!" she called but he was already gone.

The room was dim. A sound machine played sounds of the rain forest softly in the background. There were plants, both hanging and potted, lush and green, dotted through the room. They permeated the air with the crisp freshness of a spring day. It was peaceful, serene.

She toed off her flats, sitting them on the chair in the corner of the room, before pulling her bright yellow sundress over her head. Next, she unhooked her bra, and tossed it along with the dress on top of the chair. Her freshly cut and colored locks fell over her breast, purple ends curling around her nipples.

As she thumbed through the various lotions and oils in the rolling cart next to the massage table she felt uninhibited, wild, and ready for the next phase of her life. Her next chapter. Her next adventure.

The door to _massage room b_ swung open and the mysterious gray eyed man from earlier walked in carrying a stack of freshly laundered towels. His head snapped up, his gaze darkened as he took her in. She stood there in nothing but a thong and her long hair to keep her modest. "Are you Connor?" Ana squeaked, slowly raising her hands to cover her breasts.

"N-," he stopped, his eyes roamed her body, it was like he moved in slow motion, or at least that how she saw him. "Actually, yes," he smirked, setting down the towels and locking the door, "but call me CT."

Ana's blue eyes narrowed in on him as she slowly climbed up on the table, grabbing the thin white sheet and wrapping it around her body. He kneed her legs apart and stood in the space he'd created, extending his hand. The word LIFE was tattooed in black ink a crossed his knuckles, "nice to meet you."

"You don't look like any masseuse I've ever seen," her voice was low, thick with whatever it was that crackled in the air of the tiny room. Lust? Curiosity? Danger? Whatever it was, it was stifling, but against her better judgement she took his hand. She took it because this new Ana, the one who wore her lavender talisman on the tips of her hair, didn't back down from a challenge.

His touch was electric, the feel of his fingers wrapped around hers caused goosebumps to rise all over her flesh. If this was her reaction to a handshake, how the fuck was she going to be able to sit through a massage?

"What do I look like?" he asked, intrigue dancing behind his gray eyes. He wanted to tame the newly freed dove. He wanted to possess her for himself.

"Trouble."

"You're probably right," he chuckled darkly, "but it's not too late to run."

"I came for massage, I'm not leaving until I get my happy ending," she breathed. The purple dye must have gone to her brain. She didn't even sound like the same woman. Her chest heaved as she exhaled a long puff of air. Time stopped and stilled, waiting for him to make a move.

"Lay down on the table," he commanded. His voice held so much authority that she did what she was told without question. It made every muscle south of her navel clench. Her thong was soaked, she only hoped the aromatic oils would be enough to hide the scent of her arousal.

"What made you decide to go into massage therapy?" she wondered aloud. She watched him rifling through the cart. He picked up bottle after bottle smelling each one before placing it back where found it.

"I work here part-time, I'm in a band the other half of the time," he explained quietly. "Franco is my band-mates brother. We help out around here for extra cash. He pays us under the table and lets us make our own schedule." He grinned, finally deciding on small clear vial.

"What's your band called?" Normally she was quiet for massages, in fact she hated when she was saddled with a chatty masseuse, but for whatever reason this man, with his methodical pace, unnerved her so much that she couldn't shut up.

He pulled off the sheet that covered her, her bottom exposed all but the thin string nestled between her ass. "Lithium Springs," he grunted. Cool oil splashed on her back, lavender, her favorite.

"Lithium Springs," she repeated, her voice trembling. She liked the way the words tasted on her tongue. She loved the way his calloused hands felt as they slid up and down her back. It, him, this place, this room, all of it drove her crazy. She was drunk with freedom and possibility. Too keyed up to really relax, but she tried her best. She willed her muscles to loosen and let this man, with his strong fingers, do his job. But more he rubbed and pulled on her skin, the more tightly wound she became.

"Yup. I'm the drummer," he explained, applying a slight pressure to her shoulders. A drummer with hands hardened from hours of gripping wooden drumstick. Now he was gripping her skin. "We sort of have a residency at a bar downtown, The Rabbit Hole, have you heard of it?"

"No," she confessed but she made a mental note to look into it. If he played drums half as well as he gave massages it would be worth the trip.

His hands continued to work her sore muscles and she was finally beginning to unwind. "You should check us out sometime," he mumbled as he went lower. Down her shoulders, down her back, until he reached her waist. He lifted one hand from her body, and reached for the oil yet again, this time he dripped a few drops directly on her ass.

He wrapped his strong hands around her hips, pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling. "Mmm, that feels amazing," she groaned, not bothering to hide the need in her tone.

"You like that?" He whispered as his fingers traveled down. Down. Down. His fingers slipped under the strings of her thong as his oil slicked hands palmed her glutes.

"God, yes." She'd never gotten a massage like this before, she didn't know if this was normal protocol at this salon but she wasn't going to object. Not when this man was making her feel things she'd never felt before. It was like he was in tuned to her body. He knew what she needed, how she needed it and he was all too happy to give it to her.

"How about this?" She felt his breath hot on her backside as he spoke. She couldn't see him but she could feel him. His mouth had to be inches from her rear opening as he pulled her cheeks apart, exposing her tiny rosebud. His fingers slipped in-between and he rubbed her there.

"Yes," she whined, lifting her ass up off the table.

"You seem tense." He purred. "I think I can work that out, do you want me to help you loosen up?" He asked dripping more oil between her butt cheeks. His thumb applied the slightest bit of pressure to her backdoor, not enough to alarm her, but enough send a fresh wave a moisture dripping down her thigh.

"Please," she pleaded, desperate for whatever it was he had in store for her.

"Turn over," he commanded and again she did as she was told flipping on the massage table. Her perky breast bounced up and down as she settled on to her back. She pulled her hair up, letting it hang off the edge of the table. She was all but naked, and she wasn't the least bit ashamed.

"So fucking perfect," he growled. His gray eyes drank in every inch of her frame. His hands were on her, starting at her shoulders, he worked his way down. A smile ghosted on his lips, "cold?" he asked, his eyes focused on her nipples. They were impossibly hard. The room was balmy seventy-five degrees, there was no hiding her arousal. He was teasing her, the cocky son of a bitch.

He knew she was turned on, he knew she wanted him but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it, "freezing," she said, writhing under his assault.

"Maybe I can warm you up." He offered, pinching her nipples. His hands continued their rhythmic torture.

Rub. Rub. Pinch. Pull.

Rub. Rub. Pinch. Pull.

Rub. Rub. Pinch. Pull.

She was so anxious, so wound up that the hairs on her arms stood on end. Her legs fell open, an invitation, a plea. She need this. The waiting, the anticipation of where he'd touch her next was almost unbearable.

"Better?" he asked, his thick brow shooting up into his hairline.

"Not quite." She stated, flatly, "I'm holding a lot of tension between my legs."

His hand trailed down her stomach, he gripped her thighs tightly, pulling her legs as far apart as they'd go. He taunted her, squeezing and releasing the skin to the left and right of her center. He pulled her panties to the side, careful not to touch where she so desperately wanted to be touched. "Hmm," he said thoughtfully, "I think I need to take a closer look."

He dove face first between her legs, his nose inches from her clit, his breath warm on her wetness. She silently thanked God that Trey was adamant about her never missing a wax, a habit that stuck with her even though the two of them had been broken up for almost a month.

Fingers inched closer and closer to her core but still he denied her. "Connor," she whined in protest as she tried to wiggle her body closer to his mouth.

"CT," he growled, correcting her. He pressed his palm into her stomach, halting her movements. His teeth grazed her inner thigh. She was right before, the hair on his jaw did prickle at her skin, it drove her even more insane with lust than she'd imagined. He continued his delicious torture, rubbing all around her sex, getting dangerously close but never quite reaching the promise land. "How about now?"

"Nope," she huffed, emphasizing the "p."

A wolfish grin crept across his face, revealing whitest teeth she'd ever seen, "there is one technique I could use to warm you up, ancient remedy, but you've got to promise to keep quiet," he murmured, kissing her stomach.

"Um-hm, I promise." Truthfully, she hadn't heard a word he said. She could have promised to give him her first born for all she knew, anything to get him to fill the emptiness between her legs.

"Good girl," he whispered. Then her prayers were answered, the sky opened up and the sun shone brightly as he sucked her clit into his mouth.

"Fuck," she hissed, fisting her fingers in his hair. She pushing his face deeper, grinding up against him as he devoured her as if she were his last meal. He was all tongue and teeth, kissing and licking and sucking and biting every square inch of her pussy. She came within minutes, succumbing to the tortuous foreplay he'd inflicted on her body, and he wasn't done yet.

"Quiet," he grit against her sex. His fingers spread her lips apart and he inserted his middle and index fingers inside of her warmth, "you still feel tense," he noted, palming her slit.

"I am. I'm so fucking tense," she whined. Her stomach muscles clenched as he finger fucked her ruthlessly on the massage table. Lavender invaded her nostrils, sweat and oil covered her skin as clawed at the man between her legs giving her more pleasure with two fingers than Trey had in the last two years of their relationship.

He pumped in and out, swirling around in around in search of the rough patch of flesh just inside her walls. "Bingo," he grinned up at her, his search mission a success. She could feel his fingers flex, back and forth, hitting her g-spot over and over and over and over again.

"Omigod," she screamed as pressure built in her core. Her body shook uncontrollably, her head fell back and her toes curled. She'd never come twice in one session before. She feared that the orgasm he was pulling from her would split her in two, but what a way to go. "Yes, right there, please don't stop," she yelled.

"Normally, I love a screamer, but you've got to be quiet," he hushed.

"Sorry" she moaned flinging her arm over her mouth and biting down. His mouth found her clit again and the sensation of his fingers messaging her g-spot and his tongue flicking her tiny bud became too much. She came, hard, so hard she bit down on her arm until she broke the skin.

It took her a full three minutes to catch her breath. Through hooded eyes she noticed the bulge in his pants. "That looks painful," she panted, eyeing him greedily. She wondered what look like. Probably long and veiny and muscular, just like the rest of him.

"This?" he asked, grabbing himself, it was crude, but so fucking hot.

"I'm still really tense," she said, lifting up on her elbows and biting her lip.

"Are you sure?" he grinned wiggling the two fingers that were just buried inside of her. He inserted one into mouth, sucking off her juices, and the offered her the other, she did the same "because it tastes like I worked most of it out."

"I've got a lot of pent up stress," she mumbled around his finger.

"Hmm, next time I might have to pull out the big gun to do the job."

"Big gun?" She biting the tip of his middle finger.

"Huge." He whispered pressing a kiss into her forehead.

"We don't have to wait until next time," she offered.

"I wish I could, but I've got to get back to work." She stuck her bottom lip, frowning at him. "Don't pout," he smirked kissing her sweetly.

"I guess," she shrugged crossing her arms over her chest to cover herself. Suddenly, she wasn't so comfortable being naked around this stranger.

"I'll tell you what," he said, squeezing her knee. "Come to my show tonight. If you're still in need of my services, I'll take care of you after."

A slow smile crept across her face and she nodded emphatically.

He shook his head, kissing her again, "you're just lucky I can't fuck you the way I want to on this table."

His words sent a shiver down her spin. "Thanks for the massage, Connor," she flirted in a breathy voice.

"CT," he clarified once more, punctuating his point with a kiss, "call me CT."

"Until tonight, then."

"Laters," he said slipping out the door.

Once he was gone Ana covered her face with her hands and squealed quietly. _This fucking hair_.

She got up off the table, sliding her panties back into place. She toweled off the excess oil before slipping into her clothes. There was a knock at the door, "get in here," she giggled, excited about the possibility of seeing his weapon sooner than planned.

A man dressed in all white peeked his head into _massage room b_ , "Anastasia?" he asked.

"Yes," she said her voice laced with confusion.

"Sorry for the delay. I'm Connor, are you ready for your massage?"

 **The End**

* * *

 **Not beta'd. not chapter 28. I know lol.**


	4. Lithium Waves

_**Author's Note.**_

 ** _Long time no see! I know what you're thinking, and no, this isn't a Flood update, but it is a Lithium update of sorts. As some of you may know, I wrote a fan fiction about a band where Christian was a tattooed bad boy with a grudge-no I don't have a PDF- but I do have a book. Not CT's book, that is coming soon though. This book is all about Jamie(KATE) and Ryder, the lead singer of CT's band. Depending on where you are in the world right now, Lithium Waves either LIVE or it will be in a few hours. I know there are a lot of you out there who only read C &A FF, and that's ok, that was me for a spell, but for those interested, here's a sneak peak of the first chapter, of the book in the LITHIUM SPRINGS SERIES. If you like it you can find the rest on Amazon, and you can find me on Facebook. (Carmel Rhodes)._**

 ** _-Carmel_**

CHAPTER ONE

Lithium

 _ **Jamie**_

Life was suffering; at least that's what the Buddhists believed. It was a philosophy James Michele Manning understood all too well. Jamie spent the first half of her life craving the conditional love of her parents, and the second half rebelling against them.

Nothing she did was good enough, including graduating from the University of Southern California with honors. It didn't matter if she was at the top of her class because, as her father put it, broadcast journalism was a dying art. _"In fifty years when all the baby boomers are gone,"_ he'd say _, "no one will look to the television for the news. The internet is the wave of the future."_ The internet, where he made his millions.

Well, her father could go fuck himself. Her mother too. She gave up seeking their validation last fall when they abandoned her when she needed them most. Jamie was on a downward spiral. She indulged in the suffering of life, in drinking, in partying, and in casual sex. She relished the numbness alcohol provided, but recently, that life left her unfulfilled.

Party girl Jamie died months ago. Most days, she was happy that girl was gone, but there were days, like today, when she missed it. Then, as fate would have it, Lo called. Lorena Davis was her party friend. They met at a bar the year before and hit it off instantly. She had a front row seat for Jamie's, 'Britney circa 2007', meltdown, but she never judged. So, when Lo asked her to come to the edge of Seattle to see some local band perform, Jamie agreed.

That's how she found herself falling down The Rabbit Hole— literally.

The Rabbit Hole was a dive bar on the outskirts of town. Its claim to fame was a weekly skee-ball tournament, eight-dollar fish bowls, and live music.

Jamie sat at the long oak bar, nursing a cold beer. The only thing on her mind was getting shit-faced, but as usual, Lo was late.

Checking her watch, Jamie sighed, "Fuck it." She wanted to wait for her friend before she started taking shots, but Lo was twenty minutes late and she was bored. Jamie being bored in a bar was a Molotov cocktail of trouble.

She signaled for the bartender; a tall, curvy woman with bright green streaks in her brown hair. Her breasts spilled out of her black tank, and the itty-bitty shorts she wore made her ass look spectacular. Jamie made a mental note to ask her trainer about squats the next time they met.

"Hey," the punk rock Victoria Secret Model greeted, sashaying her way over.

"Is this band any good?" Jamie asked, shamelessly using her arms to press her boobs together. The move, coupled with the low-cut, black bodysuit that was painted on her body, made her small breasts look fuller.

The woman's brown eyes lit up as she leaned over the bar, her tits on full display, "Lithium Springs?"

Jamie nodded to her chest. _Eyes up James,_ she scolded herself _._ Fuck if she knew the name of the band, fuck if she cared. She was only there for the drinks.

"They're amazing."

"There aren't very many people here," Jamie said, glancing over her shoulder at the fourteen or so people milling about.

The hot bartender opened her mouth to speak, only no words came out. Instead, her face turned a bright shade of pink, and her eyes darted over Jamie's left shoulder. "Hey Ry," she whispered in a breathy voice.

A long, tattooed arm brushed up against Jamie's. Honey colored eyes peered down at her. The energy between Jamie and the owner of the arm was electric. The hair on the back of her neck prickled when the man, _Ry_ , settled into the space between her and the stool to her left.

He was close, too close, considering they were the only two people sitting at the bar. Too close, considering it had been a month since she'd gotten laid. Too close, considering she was just checking out the woman behind the bar.

Tilting her head, Jamie snuck a better look at the man who smelled like sunshine and sex— her favorite combination. He was gorgeous, tall and lean with wavy, blond hair that fell just above his shoulders. His eyes were hazel, his skin sun-kissed, and most importantly, he was covered in tattoos.

"I thought it wasn't the size of the boat but the motion in the ocean?" he asked. His voice was like hot fudge, slow, thick, and sinfully good. He eyed her, waiting for her to speak. His gaze held so much intensity it caused her cheeks to heat. She was fucking blushing, and James Michele Manning didn't blush.

"That's a lie created and perpetuated by dudes with small dicks," she smirked. Her tongue swept over her top and bottom lip, and Ry's eyes shifted down to her mouth. _Good,_ she was desperate to take back control. This man, with his tattoos and steady gaze, unnerved her. Jamie wasn't a damsel in distress and she didn't do vulnerable.

Ry laughed, a deep belly laugh. The sound sent a rush of moisture between her legs. "You're probably right." He chuckled again, ignoring the stool behind him, leaning into her. "What's your name?" His gaze dropped from her lips, down the length of her body, and back up again. He was eye fucking her, and discretion was not in his vocabulary.

"You know," Jamie said, angling away from him, "there are plenty of empty chairs. You don't have to hover over me." His closeness diminished her ability to make rational decisions, and nothing about the way this man made her feel was rational.

"I kinda like hovering over you," he murmured, closing the space she created.

He was trouble. Jamie could see it dancing behind his hazel eyes, and fuck if she didn't want him, but unfortunately, she gave up trouble for lent. "Look, you're hot and everything, but this isn't happening," she waved between them, "so enjoy the show."

Jamie slid her phone out of her back pocket, and fired off a text to Lo.

 ***Jamie: I'm at the bar. Hurry your ass up!**

"Tiff, babe," the blond hottie called the bartender in a voice that made her thighs clench.

 _Breathe James, he's just a man. Just skin and bones, breathe._

"What's up Ry?" the woman asked in a voice that made her sound like a baby. Jamie had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes; she never understood why women did that. It was annoying and men couldn't possibly like that shit.

"A shot of fireball for me and one of those fruity, Swedish fish ones for my little, Kitty Cat here."

Tiff nodded, looking from Jamie to the man, then back again. "Sure thing," she murmured, her face awash with disappointment. Jamie wanted the bartender. The bartender wanted Ry. Ry wanted Jamie. They were all screwed.

"Kitty Cat? Do I even want to know?"

He grinned a mischievous grin, one that had her clenching her thighs. "You look like you have a pretty pussy."

 _Yep, he was trouble_.

Jamie was a lot of things, and modest wasn't one of them, but even she had to pick her jaw up off the bar after that. "You are so lame," she huffed incredulously, all but throwing her phone down. "I'm embarrassed for you. There's no way that has _ever_ gotten you laid."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Kitty Cat," he said finally sitting on the damn stool. "I was talking about a pet."

Jamie snorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "Ry, is it?"

"Ryder" he nodded, entirely too pleased with himself.

"Well, Ryder, you're full of shit."

Tiff set their shots on the counter, looking to Ryder expectantly. "Let me know if you guys need anything else."

He nodded but never took his eyes off Jamie. "I'm full of shit?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Yes, filled to the brim."

"Well, Kitty Cat, if you play your cards right, you might have the pleasure of being full of me," he smirked, staring at her denim clad thighs, "and for the record, I bet she's pretty too."

Jamie picked up the whiskey and knocked it back without flinching. "You'll never know." Her voice was surprisingly strong considering the way she felt inside. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, but she was going to fight the attraction like hell because she could tell by spending five minutes with him, Ryder had the potential to fuck up her life. Jamie then lifted the Swedish fish shot and gulped it down before hopping off the stool. "Thanks for the drinks."

He grabbed her hand, "At least tell me your name."

"You gotta earn that, Ry," she purred, winking playfully at him.

Jamie did her best to keep her composure. Part of her wanted to fuck him right there on the bar and another wanted to kick him in the nuts. She had slept with plenty of assholes in her time, but never one who made her feel like Ryder. Never one who set her world on fire.

 _Don't even think about it James_.

Lo needed to get there fast before Jamie found herself covered in Ryder's sin.


End file.
